“He never tells me anything except that we are working for the Raja.”
She sighs and falls into her chair. Two large snakes follow her and coil themselves at her feet. Another snake drops onto her shoulders from a bamboo pole above. “We serve the Nagaraja, Marinda. He specifically chose you. Surely Gopal told you that much?”
My fingernails bite into the tender flesh of my palms. “He told me the Raja chose me. The Nagaraja…the Raksaka…those are just stories.” My heartbeat is roaring in my ears. This can’t be happening. The only thing that has kept me from hating myself completely is knowing that I’m serving my kingdom, helping the Raja fight evil. If I’ve been killing for any other reason…I clap my hand over my mouth. I really am the monster that Deven thinks I am.
“I’m sorry to upset you,” Kadru says kindly. “Gopal really should have told you by now. But now that you know, maybe it will make things easier.”
“Easier? How would it make things easier? I will never kill for Gopal again. I won’t serve a snake.”
Kadru’s eyes fly wide in alarm. The snakes at her feet turn their heads toward me and hiss in unison. Their eyes look like polished onyx. “Hush, Marinda,” she says. “You’re just upset. Of course you will serve the Nagaraja. Of course you will obey Gopal’s orders.” Her voice is soothing and sweet, but there’s a warning under the surface.
“No,” I say, my voice as hard as flint. “I won’t. He can have one of the other vish kanya do his bidding.”
She jerks her head back. “One of the other vish kanya?” Her face reddens and she flies to her feet, sending the snakes slithering away. “Gopal is a fool. Has he told you the truth about anything?” I just stare at her because how would I know that? Kadru begins pacing. “There are no other vish kanya, Marinda. The Nagaraja chooses only one.”
“That’s a lie,” I tell her. This I’m sure about. We are arranged in pairs—both Gopal and Gita have been clear about that. Part visha kanya, part spy.
Kadru raises her eyebrows. “Have you ever met another one?”
My certainty falters. “Well, no. But only because it’s against tradecraft.”
She releases a breath through pursed lips. “It has nothing to do with tradecraft. You’ve never met another visha kanya because you are the only one. You have been for years. Gopal lied to you.”
“How do you know that?” I shoot back. “Maybe he lied to you.”
She laughs. “I know because I was the last visha kanya.” The tent suddenly feels far too warm. My legs go spongy and I look for a place to sit down, but the snakes have claimed every surface. “I used to be you,” Kadru continues. “And when the Nagaraja grows tired of you or when you become too deadly to be useful, you will become me.”
My throat starts to close. I can’t imagine a worse fate than being Kadru, stuck in a tent, surrounded by the snakes I detest. Holding children down while serpents feed on them and listening to their screams while their blood becomes toxic. Stealing years from girls who don’t have any other options. Kadru and I are nothing alike.
She walks in a lazy circle around me, and the snakes follow her until I’m surrounded on all sides. I can barely breathe. “I don’t see how I could be too deadly to be useful,” I say through clenched teeth. I desperately want her to be lying.
“Oh, you will be,” she says. “The poison is part of you now. And it will build and build until in a few hundred years you’ll be able to kill with nothing more than a touch.”
“That’s not true,” I say. It can’t be.
“Do you remember the first boy you killed? How long did it take him to die? Five hours? Six? Darling Marinda, my kiss would kill a man in seconds.” She throws her head back and laughs. “Hardly subtle enough for assassination, but I make a marvelous executioner.” She leans close and her next words are only a whisper against my ear. “And as the years go by, you will too.”
I press my fingers against my eyelids. The horror of my future stretches out in front of me like an endless desert—living forever trapped in a prison of poison. Killing the Nagaraja’s enemies and demanding more life for myself as payment to help other girls become killers. I’d rather die tomorrow than live a thousand years like that. “No,” I say. “I won’t become you. It doesn’t matter if I’m the only visha kanya. I’m still done.”